


Glass Paradise

by Rainbow_Foxes



Series: FemJay Weekend 2020 [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Deathstroke the Terminator (Comics)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Female Jason Todd, Fluff and Angst, Pregnancy, Reconciliation, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:28:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26412679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainbow_Foxes/pseuds/Rainbow_Foxes
Summary: Written for the Fem Jay Week 2020 Day 1 prompt: Relationship with with a Mask/Villain.This life they've made is a fragile paradise wrapped in a glass shell. But there's room for one more.
Relationships: Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd/Slade Wilson
Series: FemJay Weekend 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1919755
Comments: 12
Kudos: 123
Collections: FemJay Week 2020





	Glass Paradise

**Author's Note:**

> As stated, this is written for the [Fem Jay Week](https://femjaytodd.tumblr.com/) event on Tumblr. Go check it out!
> 
> A note on naming: In Red Hood and the Outlaws (2016) #23, It's stated that Jason is named after his grandfather. in #25, it's revealed that Faye "Ma" Gunn is Jason's grandmother. It stands to reason that if Jason had been born AFAB, she'd have been named Faye after her grandmother.

The bathroom tile is cold under her bare feet and the back of her thighs; the porcelain wall of the tub sturdy against her back as she eyes the three sticks sitting innocuously on the marble counter with trepidation. She hasn’t allowed herself to hope for either of the options, not wanting to drown herself in disappointment or set herself alight in fear when she inevitably gets the opposite of what she had convinced herself she wanted. Instead she will wait the few eternities disguised as minutes to see what’s in store for her, and let herself feel when she has an answer.

She digs a chipped, orange painted nail into the grout under her hands and thinks about when they redid this bathroom. Slade had chosen the tile — simple, white and clean lines — while she had picked the marble for the counter. It’s Gotham Marble straight from the cliffs of the Narrows, night black with smokey white wisps dancing across its surface. They picked out the tub together, making sure it could fit both of their large frames comfortably with room for a little fun. The fixtures had been a debate, but she eventually gave in to his desire for sparkling silver spouts and knobs, while he conceded to her more intricate metalwork. 

The first time she knew that he loved her, they were laying the tile and bickering about the layout. She had flung a small bit of the grout at his face, interrupting him mid sentence. He’d arched his eyebrow, given her a little smile, and flung some right back at her. What followed was a messy play fight that ended with grout in her hair and Slade pinning her to the floor, running his thumb over the long scar on her cheek. He traced it from the corner of her lip up to where it disappeared into her hairline at her temple. His one blue eye had stared at her with a care she’d never noticed before.

“Say the word Little Shrike, and he’s gone.” He’d whispered, and she’d known it for what it was. Behind the words he’d said was _I’ll protect you,_ and _I need you_ , and _I love you, I love you, I love you._ She’d kissed him as her answer and let him carry her to bed.

No one has heard from the Joker in the six months since then.

She runs her hands over her face and through her hair. Faye doesn’t want to lose this thing that they have, this little paradise they haven’t put a name to. Early morning sparring sessions and lazy sex in the afternoon sun and late nights working their own cases separately but together, it all feels like a dream — like a tiny, fragile thing made of glass that she needs to guard from the world around her, lest it shatters into glittering dust.

Her thoughts are interrupted by the shrill ring of her phone alarm. She shuts it off and gets to her feet despite her reluctance to do so. Nothing has ever been solved by doing nothing, after all. Faye approaches the counter with more confidence then she really feels. Deep breath in, deep breath out, and she looks at the three tests in front of her.

_Two red lines._

_A blue positive sign._

_Pregnant in digital letters._

She bursts out into giggles and brings both hands to her mouth. There’s a smile pressing into her fingers as the giggles turn into sobs. Faye finally lets herself feel the hope she was denying herself — she’s going to be a mom. 

She never thought she would get this chance, the life she leads not allowing for her to take the risk. She has too many enemies and not enough friends, but with Slade she thinks she can do it. It’s going to be hard, but all things in life worth doing are.

The lock on the front door clicks and clacks as it’s unlocked, followed by familiar heavy footsteps. Slade’s home. Faye grins wide, grabbing the pregnancy tests and darting out of the bathroom. She walks quickly through the master bedroom and into the hall, past the doors for their shared office and the never used guest bedroom — soon to be nursery, she thinks — and into the living room where Slade has just dropped the duffle with his gear. 

He looks at her with a fond smile that shifts to concern as he takes in her face. In only a few long strides he crosses the room to stand in front of her, taking her cheek in one hand and brushing tears she had forgotten were there from her skin with his thumb.

“You’ve been crying.” His tone belays his assumption as to why she was; the only times he’s seen her cry were after encounters with the Bats or people she knew before her death. It’s a fair conclusion to come to that this time is no different.

“Happy tears, I promise.” She says as she leans into his touch. Taking his free hand, she presses the pregnancy tests into his palm. He knows what they are, she can tell by the way both of his brows arch high. He takes a step back from her, pulling his hand away as he does so, so he can get a good look at them. He presses his lips together in a way she knows means he’s trying to suppress a smile.

“You’re...?” She nods and hums, fighting her own grin. “And you want to keep them?” _Them_ , not _it._ If she had had any fear at his reaction, that would have erased it completely. She lets the smile bloom on her face.

“Yeah. I never thought I’d get to be a mom, I’m not throwing away what might be my one chance at it.” Slade hums and slides a hand around her waist, letting his thumb linger over her stomach.

“And you’re sure you wanna do this with me?” From another man it would be insecurity, but Slade has never been insecure in his life. No, he’s trying to give her options. Slade has never forced her to make a choice she didn’t want, and he wasn’t about to start now. 

Faye knows that she could walk out the door right now, raise their baby on her own, and he’d never stop her. He’d follow her and watch over them — that's what he at least tried to do with Rose and her mother — but he’d never step in unless she asked. If there was one thing Slade had learned over the years, it was that he cannot pursue those he loves like he does his marks.

“I wouldn’t do it with anyone else.” She says, sliding her hands up his chest to rest on his shoulders. “There’s no one I trust more to look after me when I can’t do it for myself, to do what’s necessary to protect our baby.” She reaches up on tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips. He kisses her back, sure and strong and all the reassurance she needs.

He pulls back and gives her a look. “We’re going to have to resurrect you legally, you know?”

She does. Faye has enjoyed her years as a ghost, the anonymity of being dead opened more doors for her than being the daughter of Bruce Wayne ever did. But dead women don’t have babies. If her child is going to have the best life they can, their mother needs to be alive.

The easiest way to do it would be to get in contact with Bruce. He has all her paperwork: birth and death certificates, autopsy reports, adoption papers, the lot of it. She and Slade could whip something up, but it would take far more time without the hardcopies, and it might just end up with her using an alias anyways.

Faye wants her name on her baby’s birth certificate, clear as day. They’ll never have to wonder who their mother is, never have to go searching for her.

She nods, “Yeah, I know. I’ll send a message to Bruce later. But for now, I wanna keep this to ourselves, at least for a little bit.” He pulls her closer and presses a kiss to her hairline.

“We can do that.”

Later, she’ll talk to Bruce for the first time in a year and a half. He’ll be suspicious at first, as he always is, but he’ll agree to meet her in a city halfway between their homes. They will sit in a busy cafe and drink overpriced coffee and try very hard to look each other in the eye and fail. When she finally tells him what she wants, he will ask her ‘why now?’ and ‘why not do it yourself?’ When she tells him she’s pregnant, he will touch her without violence for the first time since she died, holding her hand across the table. He will promise her the moon and back, and she will believe him like she did when she was twelve and just learning how to fly over the rooftops.

But for now, she is content to be held, to keep their little paradise for themselves just a few days more.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please comment down below about what you thought. Constructive criticism is always welcome as long as we keep it polite.
> 
> You can also find me on [my Tumblr](https://rainbowfoxes.tumblr.com/) if you so please. Come talk to me about things.


End file.
